


Until you're resting here with me

by kat_fanfic



Series: Malex Relay One Shots [3]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alex to the rescue, Angst, BAMF Alex Manes, Blink and you miss it temporary character death, Flint being a good brother, Getting Back Together, Handprint (Roswell), Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Maria DeLuca is a Good Friend, Michael gets abducted, Post-Season/Series 02, Protective Alex Manes, Protective Michael, Soft Michael Guerin, Talking, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:22:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29612847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kat_fanfic/pseuds/kat_fanfic
Summary: “Something wet hit Alex’s face then, but it wasn’t cold, not like the desert rain that always felt like it should be warm, but wasn’t. Reaching up, he touched Michael’s cheek, surprised at the drops he found there, at the fact that they came from his eyes.”It takes a harrowing rescue mission and a very close call for Alex and Michael to get their shit together, but then, what else is new.
Relationships: Forrest Long/Alex Manes (past), Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: Malex Relay One Shots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2116296
Comments: 14
Kudos: 81





	Until you're resting here with me

“You sure you don’t want another?”

Alex grinned up at Maria, putting his flat hand over the shot glass in front of him. “Nah,” he said. “Two’s my limit for weeknights.”

She snorted softly, handing him a bottle of water instead. “Way ahead of you, soldier.”

He couldn’t help but smile at her as he took a grateful sip.

“Now, Alex, not that I mind the company, but is there a specific reason you’ve been here every night for two weeks straight? And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been eyeing the entrance this whole time either.” Her tone was no-nonsense but her eyes were kind. “You waiting for someone?”

Alex looked down at the bottle in his hands, dipped his fingertips into the condensation. “No,” he mumbled, sounding unconvincing even to his own ears. “Just enjoying the ambience.”

“Ambience, my ass.” Maria sighed. “You gotta stop doing this, Alex. It’s not good for either of you.”

He didn’t even try to pretend to not understand what she was talking about. “I just miss him,” he said miserably. “Is that such a bad thing?”

She clucked her tongue and patted his hand. “No, of course not. But sitting here pining for Michael Guerin? Is that really how you want to spend your time? I mean, look around. You got options now.”

“Maybe.” Alex blew out a long breath, resisted the urge to actually look. “But what if I don’t want options? What if I only want-”

“Him?” Maria smiled as she shook her head at him, eyes twinkling. “Oh, man. If I’d known you were such an impossible romantic, I’d have locked you down ages ago, Manes.”

That startled a genuine laugh out of him. Alex cocked his head and grinned at his best friend. “Sorry, wrong equipment,” he said and winked at her. 

They shared a smile and a long moment of companionable silence and then Alex sat back in his seat with a heavy sigh. One table over, the Evanses were having a discussion of some sort and Max was playing with his hat, twirling it between his fingers just like… he cut off the thought before it could fully form. “Okay, out with it, DeLuca,” he finally said, ready for judgment. “How pathetic do you really think I am?”

“Oh, shush,” she answered, her tone indicating that she was done with his pity party. “You’re not pathetic, Alex, not even when it comes to Michael. I just think that maybe being apart isn’t the worst thing for the two of you right now. You know what they say about absence.”

“Yeah.” Scrubbing a hand over his face, he heaved a deep sigh. “I just wish I knew where he was, you know? Nobody has heard from him in weeks and I. Shit. I just want to know that he’s okay.”

“And I wish you’d stop taking on the weight of the whole world, Alex, but we can’t all get what we want.”

“But why not,” he whined, grinning when she busted out laughing and smacked him gently in the shoulder. 

“Just try to have at least some fun in midst of all the brooding? I can’t stand that you’re all frowny over a _guy_. Especially one that’s probably off somewhere having the time of his life.”

Alex shot her a look. “Is that what your intuition’s telling you?”

She fingered the little silver bracelet on her left wrist, shook her head. “Michael gave this to me, after our trip to the reservation. He made it to protect me, somehow he got his hands on another flower.” She pressed her lips together, looking contemplative. “We had a fight about it, about me not wanting to wear it, but…” She jingled her wrist, where the bracelet hung. “So yeah, no freaky alien sixth sense for me.”

“What made you change your mind?” 

She didn’t directly answer but she looked embarrassed enough that Alex was intrigued. “I,” she huffed, pulled a face and glanced at him through long lashes. “Would you believe that I was trying to give him privacy? He disappeared the day after our break-up, Airstream and all, and I just thought that maybe he didn’t want to be found.”

Alex hummed, watching Isobel give her brother shit about something and then smile shark-like when he complained about it. “Couldn’t have been easy not to take a peek.”

Maria craned her head to follow his gaze. “Oh, you mean because of the terror twins? They’ve actually been pretty good about it and have only asked a couple of times. And Isobel’s nose only started bleeding once, so I guess that’s progress.”

“I heard that, DeLuca!” Isobel shouted from across the semi-crowded bar, drawing a few raised eyebrows and a light smack on the arm by Max.

Maria waved her off, yelling back: “I’d be careful about what I yell across my bar when I’m the only one that gets your drink order right, Evans!”

Alex was about to answer something on the lines of ‘oh, and how do _you_ know Isobel Evans’ drink order so well’ when he was distracted. “’Scuse me,” he said, fishing out his phone. “I think my pocket is vibrating.” 

Frowning, he noted that it was an unfamiliar number before sliding the little bar on his screen over to accept the call with a tight, “Manes.”

Silence greeted him when the call connected. “Hello?” Alex asked, and then, a little annoyed, “who is this?”

A scratching sound came from the other end, then something that sounded like a cut-off groan. 

Alex’s heart began to thump in his chest. “Guerin?” he asked, lowly, turning away from Maria and, coincidentally, from Max and Isobel’s interested gazes. “Please, if it is you, please talk to me.”

A pause followed his words. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach, a mixture of dread and looming disappointment, but the wild hope was what stayed his hand in disconnecting the call. 

“Alex,” he heard, and he would know the rough timbre of that drawl anywhere.

“Guerin. It’s good to hear your voice,” he said, trying to get as many words in just in case Guerin hung up again. “We missed you, you know? We all did. It’s not the same without you here.”

“Hm, miss you, too.” Guerin mumbled, and then, clearer, “Hey, uh, Alex? D’you think… that maybe I could come home now?”

Alex’s heart seized in his chest. Something was very wrong. Guerin sounded off somehow, confused and guarded, not at all like he usually did. He was supposed to be brass and loud and oh so cocky, in a way that should be annoying but somehow was charming instead.

“Michael,” he said, softly, tried to be subtle about who he was talking to, but suddenly, Max and Isobel were right there, watching him eagerly, almost leaning on his shoulder. He ignored them, concentrated on Michael only. “Of course you can come home. Tell me where you are and I’ll come get you, wherever it is, no question asked.”

“Yeah, okay,” Michael breathed, so much raw hope in his voice that Alex’s throat grew tight. “I-” 

There was a clanging sound on the other end, loud enough to make Alex wince. Michael’s voice abruptly cut off and a moment later, a sharp cry sounded through the line before it went dead. 

“Michael? Michael!” For a long moment, Alex just stood there, holding the phone to his ear. Dread slowly crawled from his gut into the rest of him, a rolling wave of dawning, horrible realization. 

“Was that really him?” Isobel asked, hopeful. 

“What did he say?” Max this time. “Is he coming back to Roswell?”

All Alex could do was shake his head. He finally lowered the phone, took a deep breath and then he went into action. A call-back to the number got him a message saying that it wasn’t in use. Right, he hadn’t really expected anything else. “I need my computer,” he said, drawing himself up to his full height. “Michael’s been taken.”

He didn’t give them time to express their horror – or their disbelief – before he walked away, big strides bringing him almost to the Pony’s exit before Max caught up with him. “Alex, wait.”

Alex turned towards him sharply. “I don’t have time for discussions, Max. I know what I heard, okay and-”

Holding his up hands in surrender, Max shook his head. “I’m not going to argue with you, Alex. But if what you’re saying is true, we’ll need all hands on deck.” He said it matter of fact, as if Operation Save Michael was already a go and not just a vague idea in Alex’s brain. 

His first instinct was to decline, because more people meant plans and delays and not enough _doing_ , and he couldn’t get the sound of that scream out of his head. Michael’s scream. 

He pushed a shaking hand through his hair, torn between warring instincts. In the end, common sense won. Max was right, going off half-cocked wouldn’t help Michael and as good as he was, he’d need help with organizing a rescue. 

Not a recovery, oh no, because he very much planned on getting Michael back alive, thank you very much. “Meet me in the bunker in half an hour,” he said, trying to think. “Bring anyone who is willing to help, but don’t be too obvious about it. We could be watched.”

Max nodded, then hesitated. “Uh, which one?”

Alex frowned. “Which one, what?” he asked, a little annoyed.

“Which bunker.” Max shrugged, sheepish. “We got a few of those available.”

Despite himself, Alex felt a trickle of amusement go through him. “That is disturbingly accurate, but I actually meant the Project Shepard one. I have more resources there and it’s bigger than Guerin’s or mine.”

Max gave him a tight, grim smile. “We’ll be there. Thanks, Alex.”

He just nodded, bit back the sharp reply already burning on his tongue. Because of course he’d do everything in his power to help. Not because Michael was Max’s brother, or because he was part of their merry band of conspirators, but because he was _Michael_. _His_ Michael, and wasn’t that a kick in the nuts to realize under the circumstances. He turned to go, eager to start, but some impulse made him stop and look back.

Max hadn’t moved. He stood with one hand pressed to his heart, face pulled into a grimace. Alex knew that the pacemaker had been giving him trouble ever since the short-out at CrashCon. Michael had been the one to maintain it, had used his telekinesis again and again to reset it. But then he’d vanished, and even though Isobel had been working on her own abilities and was almost Michael’s match in force, she just didn’t have his control. 

It was a very physical reminder of Michael’s absence and Alex almost envied Max for it. His own pain, the one that had been sitting dull and unmoving in his chest for weeks now, was much less concrete and therefore much harder to explain to a boyfriend who didn’t quite get why missing his ex was such a big deal that it robbed Alex of his sleep some nights.

Losing Forrest before they could really begin should have felt worse than it did. He had liked the other man, had needed his easy availability, his uncomplicated affection after everything that happened. And yet, even in the midst of new-relationship butterflies, Alex had never been able to get the scent of rain out of his head and it had screwed up any chance they’d had of making it work between them. 

But it was only now, when there was a very real chance that he was about to lose Michael, that Alex could admit to himself that there’d only ever been one outcome to their story. He could only hope that it wasn’t too late for them to make it to their happily ever after. 

****

It was startlingly easy to find Michael. Sure, Alex had to burn through half his military contacts, trading in most of his hard-earned favors, and none of them had slept in days, but still, standing in front of the nondescript building now, Alex couldn’t help but feel that this had all been too easy.

Even if it had involved Maria’s ESP and a well-timed hint that Flint was involved with Deep Sky that had gotten them onto the right track. 

“Head’s up,” he murmured checking his gun. “This could very well be a trap to catch more of you.”

“Let them come,” Isobel said and her smile was razor-sharp. 

Alex grinned back at her, inordinately glad to have her by his side. “They wouldn’t dare.”

“Damn, right.” 

Kyle rolled his eyes at them, mumbling something about aliens being adrenaline junkies, which earned him twin glares and a raised eyebrow from Alex. “You ready then?” he said, exasperated. “Or do you need a motivational speech from your getaway driver?”

“Nah, we’re good,” Alex said, getting affirmative nods from the others. 

And just like that, Operation Save Michael was officially a go. 

****

Alex was on his own when he found him, hidden deep in the complex behind a heavy metal door and an electronic lock that had taken him entirely too long to crack.

When he finally stepped inside the room, Alex didn’t hesitate. The moment Michael’s eyes met his, fear and desperation and wild hope bathed in hazel, he darted across the room, falling onto the ratty mattress and pulling him into his arms. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, his eyes burning when Michael made a low sound and pushed into him. 

“I knew you’d come,” he heard, murmured against his neck and he inhaled the scent of rain and thunderclouds and for the first time in months, Alex could breathe easy.

“Always.” He pulled back, just enough so that he could check Michael over. “Are you alright?” What he saw infuriated him. Needle tracks adorned the other man’s arms, and his wrists were rubbed raw from the restraints chaining him to the wall. He looked thinner than he had been when he’d been taken and his eyes had a fevered gleam to them, but he didn’t look injured and he seemed surprisingly lucid. 

Guerin had the audacity to wink at him. “Better, now that you’re here.”

Alex snorted, unable to help the short laugh that escaped him. “Try it on someone who doesn’t know all your moves, Guerin.” He was tempted to let Max and the others know that he had found Michael, but it was not a good idea to expose their positions like that. “We should get going. Think you can make it on your own?”

Michael nodded. “Yeah. Gotta get these off first, though,” he said, gesturing to the restraints. “They suppress my powers, takes a minute or two before they come back.”

Alex nodded. They would need every advantage they could get getting out of here, and Michael’s TK was a definite advantage. “Hang on,” he said, studying them. There was a strange glimmer to them, one that he recognized from the alien artifacts. He grimaced, hating that they’d used Guerin’s own technology against him like this. 

Thankfully, though the material had been adjusted, the lock on the things was fairly standard. It didn’t take Alex long to pick it. 

“I forgot how good you are at that.”

Alex glanced up, flushing a little at the smile on Guerin’s face. He had learned to pick locks in High School, mainly because he got tired of stealing the keys to the UFO Emporium for them to have a place to go and make out. “Well,” he said, clearing his throat. “It’s a skill that has come in handy once or twice.” 

The restraints fell away and Michael sighed in relief, rotating his wrist and testing his range of motion while Alex busied himself with packing away his lock-picking kit and checking for the umpteenth time that his gun was fully loaded.

Finally, Guerin looked around, apparently noting Alex’s lack of backup for the first time. “You came alone?” 

Alex couldn’t quite read his tone, but the words were almost too casual. “I was going to,” he murmured. “But your siblings had other ideas and were very vehement about it, Isobel especially. Liz also helped, and so did Maria, and then Kyle heard about it and made it a whole thing and so he got involved, too.” He met Michael’s hooded gaze. “None of us knew they had you, not until the phone call.”

“I’m not surprised,” Guerin said easily. “They probably made it look like I had taken off, Flint even bragged that he’d stashed the Airstream somewhere where I’d never find it.”

It was good to know that he didn’t blame them for not knowing he was in trouble, but the casual mention of his brother being an active part of Michael’s captivity soured Alex’s stomach. “Don’t worry,” he said, trying for a normal tone. “We’ll get it back.”

Michael shrugged. “It can wait. It’s not like there’s anything important in it.”

Alex stared at him. “It’s your home, that in itself makes it important.”

Looking surprised, Michael glanced at him and then away again in a way Alex knew all too well. “Maybe. But it’s not really high on my list of priorities right now, y’know?”

Alex did know, and he made a mental note to make it _his_ priority as soon as he was able to. “Yeah. So how did you manage to call me?”

Guerin didn’t blink at the rather abrupt change of subjects. “They had drugged me again, thought I was down for the count.” He grinned. “But I’d been working with Liz on those new serums, remember, and I’d dosed myself with them a couple of times.”

Alex sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. “You promised me that you wouldn’t play guinea pig for her anymore, Guerin.”

He shrugged. “Helped me this time. I’d built up some kind of tolerance, I think, because I managed to give them the slip when they-“ he cut himself off, shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Couldn’t find the way out, but I got my hands on a phone. Was woozy though, kind of out of it, so I dialed the only number I could remember and, well, here we are.” He made a sarcastic little ta-dah gesture, half-smirking at Alex.

It did something to Alex’s insides to know that his number had been the one to stay in Guerin’s drug-addled brain. “Come on,” he murmured, before he could embarrass himself. He figured two minutes were up now, and even if they weren’t, they had to move before they got discovered. “Let’s get out of this shithole.”

Guerin nodded, lips still quirked into a grin and heaved himself up onto his feet. “After you.”

Alex rolled his eyes - as if he’d have allowed anything else - and took point only after making sure that Guerin was steady. “They’ll be waiting for us out there,” he said, gesturing with his gun towards the metal door. “But hopefully the distraction worked. It better has, we spent a lot of time coming up with it.”

Guerin glanced at him then, surprise and pleasure lighting up his features. “You had a whole plan?”

“Of course we did,” Alex groused as he moved into the hallway, a little insulted that Michael could think he would attempt a rescue without one - never mind that he had been about to do just that after getting his call.

A few minutes later, he wasn’t so sure if having a plan was all it was cracked up to be. He knew that it had been a good idea to separate from the others and go off on his own to find Michael. Now though, when about a dozen Deep Sky soldiers descended upon them, Alex couldn’t quite remember why. 

“Halt!” One of the soldiers bellowed, and Alex snorted. As if. He shoved Guerin into a little alcove and in the same movement he jerked his arm up, taking aim and shooting two of the soldiers into their unprotected shins. Howling, they fell, and Alex pressed himself hard against Guerin as he took cover. “Don’t move,” he said, talking over the gunfire and the sound of bullets hitting the wall beside them. 

“Right,” Guerin murmured, breath hot against his temple, and then he stretched around him and a moment later, the three remaining soldiers started screaming and then there was a series of hard thuds, followed by silence. 

Alex peeked around the corner, grinning when he saw the neatly stacked pile of unconscious Deep Sky men. “Playing Tetris?” he asked softly, moving cautiously into the corridor, weapon raised. 

Guerin hummed the game’s theme, giving Alex a rakish grin. He looked almost normal like this. As if this had just been one of their usual missions of alien espionage, as if he hadn’t just spent weeks in a Deep Sky prison, being interrogated and… no. Alex shook his head and shoved the intruding thoughts away. 

He was not going there, not now when he needed all his faculties intact to get them out of here. Later he could fall apart over imagining what Guerin had gone through while they all had thought he was off somewhere, sulking. 

“This way,” he said, trusting his instincts as much as the map he had created in his mind beforehand. The halls were empty now, but it could only be a matter of time before the ruckus they’d made drew more of the Deep Sky soldiers their way. 

For a while, things went smoothly. They made good progress, nearing the rendezvous point where the others should be waiting, and there was a split second where Alex dared to hope that they could make a clean getaway - and then everything happened very fast. 

They turned a corner, Alex saw something move – something in a distinctive camo pattern - and shoved himself in front of Guerin as shots rang out, returning fire even before he could take aim. There was a blur to his left and then Guerin shouted, did something with his powers that sent a small shockwave through Alex’s nervous system, but Michael was fine, as fine as he could be under the circumstances anyways, and that was a good thing to know. 

Relief made him dizzy and he swayed on his feet. Huh, maybe he should have taken a snack break earlier, he thought idly. Trying to blink the sudden blurriness in his vision away, he looked to where the enemy fire had come from. He couldn’t see the man anymore, but there was a crumpled mass lying at the end of the corridor, one that vaguely resembled a human being. 

He wanted to say something, wanted to make sure that Guerin really was alright, but there was something stealing his breath and a dull ache spread out from his belly, leaving numbness behind. It felt so weird that he brought a hand up to touch himself there. His fingers came away wet and he stared at them, fascinated by the vibrant color.

“Alex,” someone said and he tried to turn towards the sound, but instead his knees gave out from underneath him. He was caught before he could fall, not by something physical, but by that weird not-quite-there touch of Guerin’s TK, which wrapped itself around him and kept him upright when his own strength, inexplicably, failed.

“Alex?” he heard Michael say as if from far away, and Alex blinked through the sweat burning in his eyes. 

“Guerin…?” Alex couldn’t make his lips form the name right, which was weird because saying it had always been so damn easy. He tried to shake his head, grimaced when all that did was make the world wobble and then he was caught and held against a warm, strong body and whatever else was going on, _this_ he knew. 

“Don’t you dare do this to me, Alex,” Guerin said in his ear, fierce and low and desperate. “Fuck. Don’t you dare leave me, asshole, you hear me?” His terror seemed to tear itself from the depth of his soul and Alex couldn’t help but respond to it, even as he still struggled to understand where Guerin thought he was going.

“Here,” he said, tried to say. “’M right here.” Reaching up, he touched Guerin’s cheek, frowning when it left a red stain on his skin. It didn’t look half as good on Guerin’s skin than it did on his own. 

“Yeah,” Guerin said. His eyes were wet. “Right where you’re supposed to be, okay? Here, with me.”

That sounded good. Alex sighed with pleasure, pleased that not even the throbbing pain in his gut could reach him here. “Wit’you,” he mumbled, frowning when the words came out all garbled. Was he drunk? Strange, he didn’t remember drinking. 

“Alex, please. Just, hold on.” 

Something wet hit his face then, but it wasn’t cold, not like the desert rain that always felt like it _should_ be warm but wasn’t. Reaching up, he touched Michael’s cheek, surprised at the drops he found there, at the fact that they came from his eyes. “Wha-?” he asked, and it had only been one time that he had seen that particular expression on Michael’s face and that was when he’d lost his brother. 

It rushed him then, the agony and realization of a fatal wound, and Alex moaned, moving restlessly in an attempt to escape it. “Shh,” he heard, soft lips touching his forehead. “I’m here, Alex.”

It helped, in a strange way, to know that Michael would be with him for these last moments. As it should be, he thought, even as incredibly selfish it was. He could feel the anguish in Michael’s words, could feel it even through the pain and the shock and the lights dimming, and it broke his heart. “’M sorry,” he breathed, coughing as something wet gurgled in his lungs. 

I want to stay, was what didn’t quite make it past the darkness creeping in, his last glimpse of Michael’s face one of utter despair. I love you. 

****

He came to with a gasp and the distinct feeling that his insides had just been rearranged. “Hngh,” he said, grimacing at the coppery taste that lingered in the back of his throat. He hated the taste of blood, had ever since he’d began chewing on the inside of his cheeks as a kid and bitten it bloody one too many times.

Beside him, someone was retching, and it made his stomach turn in sympathy nausea. “Y’okay?” he mumbled, struggling to get his body to cooperate. Sitting up was easier than expected, and much less painful than it should be. Looking down, he pushed his shirt aside, looked for the wound he knew had been there and found only unblemished, blood-spattered, _glowing_ skin. 

That, together with the fact that Guerin was about to spew his stomach out of his mouth told him everything he needed to know about the situation. “Hey,” he rasped, glad his vocal chords were working with him this time. “I didn’t know you could heal.”

Guerin shuddered, heaved, and waved a hand in his general direction in a I-didn’t-know-either-but-what-can-you-do gesture. Or at least, that’s how Alex chose to interpret the vague movement. “Right,” he murmured, wishing he’d thought to bring some acetone with him. They had some in the car, fat lot of good that did them in here. 

Struggling onto his feet, Alex pressed a hand to his belly, feeling the wetness there. It was strange to know that just a few minutes ago, he had been near death - dead? - and now, there was nothing to show for the injury than a bit of blood and a hole in his shirt.

Well. That and the glowing skin underneath, and didn’t the handprint usually take longer than a few minutes to show up…?

A wave of emotion flooded him then, distracting him from the thought. Protectiveness mixed with fond amusement and a deep, sorrowful regret that underlay everything. They were so similar to his own feelings that it actually took him a second to realize that the emotions _weren’t_ his own. Trying hard not to react to the onslaught, stunned by what it had revealed, he took a few deep breaths, promised himself that they would talk as soon as their situation wasn’t so dire, and looked down.

It wasn’t a surprise to see Michael’s eyes on him. He had almost felt the gaze, the anxious energy of it. “I’m alright,” he said, as much to himself as to Guerin. “Thank you for…” he gestured vaguely, encompassing the incredible circumstances of alien healing.

Nodding, some of the tension left Michael’s body and he quirked a smile at him. “Don’t mention it.”

The eye-roll was automatic. “Sure, no biggie.”

Guerin snorted, turning away from the mess he’d left on the floor. He was ashen and there were dark rings around his eyes and if he hadn’t been exhausted before, he sure was now. 

“Can you get up?” Alex asked softly, taking a hold of Michael’s shoulder, and crouched down as much as he was able to.

Guerin nodded, but made no actual attempt to move. 

Alex let him be for a moment, took the time to collect himself, to get back into the mindset of the soldier he needed to be to get them out of here. Wishing he could contact Max and the others, he grimaced. The radio silence had been a necessary part of this mission, but it felt wrong to not be able to coordinate his actions with his team. 

At last, Guerin groaned and peered up at him. “’M ready now,” he murmured, heaving himself off the ground with a low grunt of effort, Alex following suit. “Remind me to not do that again.”

Alex steadied him and slipped his arm over his shoulders, making sure to leave his dominant hand unimpeded. “What do you mean?” He teased as they began to move in what Alex hoped was the right direction. “Getting snatched by shady X-Files, or resurrecting your cosmic soulmate slash ex-boyfriend?” 

He might have regretted the offhanded remark, but from the corner of his eyes he saw a grin splitting Michael’s lips, felt his amusement as if it were his own, and that made it almost worth the awkwardness of calling himself Guerin’s soulmate. 

“Both, to be honest. Could live without the life or death drama, that’s for sure.” 

A sentiment Alex could wholeheartedly agree with. 

“But I’d rather be with you fearing for my life, than be without you and safe.”

Alex’s heart stumbled in his chest, the low words finding their way into the cold, dark place where regret and pain usually sat. He glanced at Michael, saw his face turned away, a faint blush staining the bit of stubbled cheek that wasn’t blocked. The embarrassment flooding him wasn’t unfamiliar and yet it seemed foreign in his own mind.

He squeezed Michael’s waist and murmured a soft, “Dito.”

“Shit,” Guerin huffed, embarrassment fading to make place for amusement. “I never should have told you about my Ghost moment.”

“Nothing wrong with Swayze and Demi being the reason for ones bisexual awakening,” Alex replied easily and felt more than heard Guerin hum in agreement. 

They made steady progress, despite them both being almost at the end of their endurance, pushed there by exhaustion, emotional turmoil and by the constant adrenaline pushes of fight or flight reflexes kicking in. 

Alex knew this state all too well. He’d get through it, would get Michael through it as well, but there’d be a heavy price to pay for that later. He sensed many sleepless nights in his immediate future. 

“It’s not far now,” he murmured, something like relief daring to rise up in him, and of course this was exactly the moment things went wrong. 

“Alex, Alex, Alex,” a dark voice said from behind them and for a single, mind-freezing moment, Alex thought that it belonged to his father before everything came flooding back.

Slowly, he turned and faced his brother. “Flint.”

“Weapon down, Alex,” Flint said, almost casually. 

Alex considered his options. Michael was hardly more than dead weight against him, reassuring all in itself, but a handicap in a situation where he needed every advantage. Because shooting his brother was out of the question and that limited his choices significantly, especially since Flint didn’t seem to have the same qualms. 

Alex took a deep breath, tried to reign in the dread wanting to overwhelm him, and slowly lowered his gun. Where the fuck where Isobel and the others?

“Hey, bro,” he said, tightening his hold on Guerin. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Yeah, we have got to stop meeting like this.”

He knew that wry humor, had always admired it, had even tried to emulate it when he’d been younger. His heart ached as he looked at Flint now, at the hard lines around his mouth, the cold stare he gave them. “We would, if you’d stop getting involved in inhumane operations.”

Flint huffed. “Inhumane, he says, as if he hasn’t spent the better part of his life being jerked around by the alien that infiltrated his life when he was too young to know any better. This _thing_ has manipulated you long enough, Alex, and I won’t let it destroy what is left of your career _and_ your life.”

A sinking feeling spread through him. “So you’re a bigot then, too, huh? Like father, like son, I guess.”

That seemed to hit. Flint growled and glared at Alex. “I couldn’t care less about who you fuck up the ass, Alex, as long as they’re human!”

The fury rising in him wasn’t unexpected, but its intensity surprised him. “Michael may not have been born on this planet,” he hissed, “but that doesn’t make him any less of a human being. They were refugees, Flint, they needed protection from us, and care, and _help_.“ He shook his head and fixed his brother with a direct stare. „I would give my life to spare any alien from the torture and abuse that went on in Caulfield, but for Michael? I would blow up the whole damn state to keep him safe.”

Flint shook his head, looking disappointed. “Thankfully, that’s not an option. Put the gun on the ground and step back from the asset, Alex. This is as far as you’re going to get.”

“I really don’t want to hurt you,” Alex said, slowly.

Flint smirked. “Oh, you can certainly try. Wouldn’t recommend it, though. I’ve always been the better shot.”

It hurt more than he wanted to admit, to hear his brother talk so casually about shooting him. Alex shook his head, swallowed around the lump in his throat. “You need to let us go.”

„Yeah, not gonna happen. I have explicit orders to kill the asset should it try to escape, and unlike you, I intend to obey them.”

“Michael is not an _asset_ ,” Alex shouted, losing his temper. Fingers bit into his shoulder in a timely, if painful, reminder and Alex managed to reign in his anger. Sucking in a breath through his nose, he met Flint’s hard gaze. „This is kinda your chance, you know? If you ever had any affection for me at all, if being brothers ever meant anything to you, _this_ is your chance to prove it.”

Flint looked like he’d been slapped. “By letting you leave with one of the last alien subjects we have left? Shit, Alex, you don’t get to play the brother card when it’s a choice between you and a matter of national security.”

“I’m not asking you let an alien subject go.” Alex’s eyes burned. “I’m asking you to let _me_ go, me and-“ he stopped, hesitated and then he plowed forward, knowing that they were running out of time. “Me, and the man I love.”

Guerin’s face snapped toward him, but Alex couldn’t spare him any attention, couldn’t think about what he’d just admitted to. His brother seemed torn, more so than he’d ever seen him and for the first time in years, Alex felt like he was able to reach the boy he’d once been, the one that had read to him and had made him Mac and Cheese after a tough day, just because it was his favorite. “Please, Flint,” he begged.

For a long moment, he wasn’t sure if it was going to have any effect. “Fuck,” Flint said then, low and heartfelt. The hand holding his gun was trembling and he couldn’t seem to settle on any one expression, cycling through a gamut of emotions. “ _Fucksoft_ with him. Stifling the impulse to pull back, he took a deep breath instead. It would be so easy to reinforce those emotional boundaries that had kept him safe for years. 

Easy, and devastating. 

“Flint’ll be fine. He always lands on his feet, he’s sort of like a cat that way,” he said, watching the moonlit desert flying by outside the car’s window. “And my leg will be fine as soon as I can lay down and take the prosthetic off.”

“Lay down, huh?” Guerin glanced up, flashing him a grin. “That an invitation?”

There was a soft snort from the front of the car. Alex shot Kyle a glare when their eyes met in the rearview mirror. There was a shit-eating grin on the other man’s face, but he said nothing as he put in earbuds in big, exaggerated movements. 

“I think we need to talk a bit more, before any laying down is going to happen,” Alex said, when he was sure that they had as much privacy as they were going to get.

To his surprise. Michael nodded and pushed himself up until he was mostly sitting upright. His curls were wild and unruly and he scrubbed a hand through them, blinking at him in the dim half-light. “Yeah, I figured,” he said, voice even lower than usual. “Look, there’s a lot I’ve been meaning to tell you. I had a lot of time to think in that cell and I spent most of it thinking about you, about us. Shit, Alex, I know I haven’t done right by you in a long time and I’m sorry for all of it…” Alex began shaking his head to protest but Michael held up a hand, stopping him. “Just let me get this off my chest, okay? You are my family, Alex, as much as Isobel and Max are. I don’t know why it took me so long to understand, but I would rather have you in my life as a brother than not at all. I know you’re with Forrest now and I respect that-“

“I’m not.”

The simple words stopped Michael short. He sort of gaped at him, amber eyes wide. “You’re not?”

Alex shook his head, biting his lip to keep from grinning. Michael not only looked flabbergasted, he _felt_ it and it made Alex giddy to know that they were so close to working this out. 

When Michael spoke, they were quiet words, intimate ones, meant only for the two of them. “So, you meant it then? What you said to Flint about me. About, about loving me.” 

Alex’s heart beat faster in his chest. “Yes,” he answered, just as quiet, but with as much conviction as he could muster. “I meant it.”

Nodding, Michael glanced down and licked his lips. He practically radiated anxious hope, but there was also amusement mixed in, which Alex came to understand was an inherently Michael trait. “Okay, then, um. I love you, too. Like, a lot. And you do realize that I would have kissed you by now if I hadn’t puked my guts out earlier, right?”

Startled into a laugh, Alex reveled in the rush of pure affection flooding his chest. “Good thing you gargled with some acetone earlier then,” he quipped, grinning. 

He was fine, Michael was fine, and they were _together_ now in every way that counted. He hummed happily and when he leaned in, Michael was meeting him halfway. They flowed together, lips and bodies and souls aligning and it felt like their first kiss all over again, except _better_ because this time there was love guiding them. 

They kissed for a long time. Long enough that Alex’s lips began to burn and tingle from the friction, but he didn’t care one bit, would have kissed Michael until the end of times if Michael hadn’t tried to stifle a yawn against his mouth. They pulled apart then, both chuckling, and Alex used the momentum to spread out on the narrow seat, dragging the other man down with him until they lay pressed together from head to toe, sharing warmth and air between them. 

It was cozy and peaceful and Alex was about to drop off, soothed by the steady rumble of the car and the lack of any immediate danger, when Michael stirred against him and lifted his head from where it lay on his shoulder. “Hey, Alex,” he rumbled, lips quirking. “Jus’ for the record here, ‘kay, ‘cause I want to make this clear. _You_ were my bisexual awakening.”

Laughing softly, Alex pulled him back down, sighing in contentment when Michael’s warmth penetrated even the coldest places in him. Together, they rested.


End file.
